


Bonne Nuit

by Vasilopoula



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Flashbacks, Gen, its sad that's it what did you expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 04:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11775570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vasilopoula/pseuds/Vasilopoula
Summary: It is said that the black widow never sleeps, constantly watching from its perch in its web, waiting for its time to strike.Contrary to popular belief, Widowmaker did occasionally have to sleep.orSombra knows everything. Widowmaker doesn't and she'd prefer to keep it that way.





	Bonne Nuit

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few months ago and figured that I might as well post it, as the new Widowmaker map was released on the PTR yesterday, giving us more clues to her lore. Might as well put this out there before all of the details become invalidated due to more story hints lol
> 
> Anyway, I absolutely adore Widow's characterization and backstory and I always want to know more about her complex neural reconditioning and the aftereffects. C'mon, Papa Jeff. I will pay you money for more details concerning my lovely blueberry. Hit me up.

It is said that the black widow never sleeps, constantly watching from its perch in its web, waiting for its time to strike. 

Contrary to popular belief, Widowmaker did occasionally have to sleep.

Sure, she never had a permanent home anymore working with Talon, but they did provide some sort of shelter for their crew members between missions. At least they had some decency. 

Widowmaker walked into the room near silently, clicking the lock shut on the door behind her, going as far as to input a sequence of numbers into a keypad. Talon wanted her safe after all of the time and work they put into creating her. If she knew how to appreciate anything, she probably would have appreciated the alone time. 

But she didn't know how to appreciate anything. So that didn't really matter. 

The room was incredibly small. Even if Talon was generous enough to house their members, they weren't too happy about it. They knew that their workers didn't have much else of a place to go, with everyone there abandoning their former lives to fight for their new ideals. To live for these ideals. With no other place for their workers to go, other than prison, Talon sufficed by giving them a space that was just barely above a jail cell. 

Widowmaker set her rifle down near her bed. A light violet hand gracefully reached up to grab her ponytail holder, dragging the elastic through her long locks and letting her dark hair flow over her shoulders and down her back. Her headpiece came off shortly after, placed carefully on a bedside table near her harpoon rifle. She lightly sat on the bed, removing her high heeled boots and stretching her long legs out. Even if she barely had any sensation in her body anymore, it seemed to make a small difference to be free of some of her tight garments. Once her boots were off, she stared at her hands. Her long painted nails, her slender fingers, her cool complexion. She traced a line across her palm, wondering if today she might be able to feel it. 

Not today. 

Not that she minded, feeling was so overrated. 

_Click._

Widowmaker looked up with a snap, instantly grabbing her rifle and bringing it up to her eye. Through the red crosshairs, she saw what seemed to be some clawed, gloved hands, some sort of hexagonal structure floating in mid-air...

"Hey, Araña."

Widowmaker reluctantly lowered her gun, a dull expression taking over her face. 

"I told you not to call me such things." She said flatly. 

"Yeah, yeah, lo que sea."

Widowmaker's attention snapped to her door's keylock. Nothing looked broken or smashed. Widowmaker glared over at her purple-clad accomplice. Sombra took note of this and smirked. 

"Are you surprised, Araña?" Sombra scoffed. "Seriously, keylocks are so easy to break into. I don't know what Talon was thinking, like this would protect their most prized assassin." She mocked. 

"What do you want."

"Can't two friends just hang out?"

"We are not friends."

"Whatever you say, amiga." She laughed. "I have something for you, Araña. A present." She brought up a hexagonal matrix computer, rapidly clicking through countless windows and files shown through the hologram. 

"I do not want whatever you have, Sombra. Leave me be."

Sombra pouted. "Not even..." a few more clicks, then a large picture came up on the floating screen. "This?" She said playfully. 

Widowmaker looked up. Staring back at her was a young woman, her hair done up in an intricate bun, wearing a white dress, smiling next to a handsome young man in a tuxedo. 

"What even is this Sombra?" Widowmaker sneered. "Why should I care about some idiotic wedding photo?"

"Well," Sombra grinned. "I didn't know you thought of yourself as an idiot, querida." She said facetiously. 

"What are you talk--" Widowmaker stopped short. She went silent, studying the fizzling image on the screen with narrowed eyes. Slowly going over every curve and line of the pale woman's face. 

A slow beat passed. 

"Where did you find this?"

"I have my ways--"

"Where."

Sombra sighed dramatically. "Geez, Araña, didn't know you would care so much about a little photo."

"I don't--"

"Gérard LaCroix's old computer backup was buried within Overwatch's old database from a few years ago. Just was doing a little digging and found some interesting things."

"Like what?" Widowmaker faltered. The picture was still up on the screen and her gaze was transfixed on the image staring back at her. She knew about this man, but everything was fuzzy. All she could think of is that he was an enemy associated with Overwatch, and she had murdered him in his sleep. She had heard Reaper joking sardonically about her having a past marriage, but she had never really believed him. How could she, Widowmaker, ever be tied down to someone? Ever feel anything for someone?

The picture disappeared. 

"Hey--" Amélie faltered. 

Sombra smirked, dragging up another file with some pictures. Widowmaker got a quick glance of the title, enough to see the phrase "Christmas 2067", and suddenly a picture of her former self, Gérard and some miscellaneous Overwatch agents appeared. Amélie LaCroix was dressed elegantly in a black turtleneck paired with a matching black pencil skirt. Her smile was radiant, genuine. The glass of red wine that Amelie was cradling in her left hand had a smear of red lipstick on the rim. 

She looked happy. At peace with her environment. 

Sombra flicked through more photos. Familiar faces trickled through, faces she had come to hate, faces she had... been trained to hate. 

Gérard, Winston, Angela, Ana, Jack, Fareeha, Lena--

Lena. Lena Oxton. 

Widowmaker sneered. 

"Stop showing me this useless garbage. I do not know what this is even supposed to accomplish, Sombra."

Sombra shrugged. "I mean, it's not to accomplish anything, I just thought it was funny is all. I like when the itsy bitsy spider gets flustered." she teased. 

"I do not get flustered." Widowmaker sounded through slightly gritted teeth.

"Yeah, Araña, sure you don't." Sombra said dismissively. "Anyway," she reached into her coat pocket and tossed a black object to Widowmaker. "Thought you might like this. Don't ask where I got it, you don't wanna know."

Widowmaker skillfully caught the small object, turning it over in her hands. It was a small wallet, definitely one that was well worn, yet remained elegant and classy, timeless. She suspiciously thumbed through the insides. No cash, no cards, no change... except for one folded piece of almost plastic-like paper of some sort. Widowmaker gingerly took it out, holding the paper between two fingers as if she were holding up a piece of trash. She unfolded the paper slowly, feeling the creases let go against her hands until they formed an old Polaroid. 

\--

"Come on, love!" Lena said, grabbing Amélie's hand. "I got this brand fancy new camera, I did! It's a real old fashioned one, like in those classic movies, yeah? C'mon!"

Amélie daintily laughed, letting herself be dragged along by Lena. A moment later, a small, strong arm had been thrown over her shoulder with her face being squished against the brunette's. 

"Lena, this is--"

"Amé, we have to get all close in! It takes the smallest pictures, you wouldn't believe! Now, smile, love!" Lena gave her biggest, toothiest smile. Amélie quickly followed suit with a far less enthusiastic and much smaller smile, but a warm one nonetheless. Lena snapped the camera button twice in rapid succession. 

Two sheets of film slid out of the camera slowly. Amélie looked at them with disappointment. 

"They didn't come out." She stated sullenly. "Chérie, your camera must be broken."

Lena laughed. "No, silly! You just have to shake it. Here, give it a try!" She handed Amélie one picture and started rapidly shaking the other back and forth in her own hand. Sure enough, the grey tinge started to disappear and a picture started to form on the sheet. Amélie stared at her own gray sheet and slowly moved the paper, waiting for it to turn. 

Lena watched on as Amélie languidly moved her arm, attempting to develop her own film. Everything she did was so graceful, even just shaking a piece of plastic in her hand. She wished she could go see one of her ballet shows. In the midst of the Omnic Crisis, however, no one involved in the Overwatch team had enough leisure time to go do such things. Citizens barely were able to continue their day to day lives as they had in the years prior. 

Lena snatched Amélie's photo directly out of her hands. 

"Hey--!" Amélie gasped, taken aback. "Lena, wh--"

Lena shushed her, cutely holding up her index finger to Amélie's full, red lips. She winked and blinked away, blinking back almost immediately, carrying two pens. One purple, one orange. She stuck her tongue out and handed Amelie the purple pen along with her copy of the picture. 

"Your favorite, yeah, love?" She giggled. "Okay, now don't look!" She said excitedly, turning around to go wreck havoc on her new picture. She looked over her shoulder. "We're gonna trade, by the way, so write me something nice!" She called out. "You always know what to say." She said fondly before turning back to her own photo. 

Amélie looked at the photo in her hands. It had finally finished developing and now captured herself and Lena frozen in time forever, smiling and laughing. Lena's selfie aim wasn't fantastic, but even with her short arms, she managed to get both of their smiling faces in the shot. Amélie uncapped the purple pen, thoughtfully pondering what to write. 

"Done!!" Lena nearly yelled, zooming over to Amélie. She realized Amélie wasn't finished writing on her photograph and quickly covered her eyes with her hands. "Sorry, love!"

Amélie lightly chuckled, scribing her words in perfect cursive. 

"Ya done yet?" Lena questioned. "My hands are gettin' tired 'ere!" She joked playfully.

Amélie nodded and then remembered that Lena could not see her. "Yes, chérie." she said quietly, smiling to herself. Lena may have only been five years younger than her, but she had spirit and enthusiasm like no other. Amélie appreciated that. 

"Yay!" Lena cheered, a little too loudly, thrusting her own picture at her elegant friend. "Hope ya like it!" she stated proudly. 

\--

Widowmaker turned the photo over in her hands. She could hardly believe that she had been this close in proximity to the British woman without trying to murder her in cold blood. She made a strong effort to keep her expression stone-faced. After all, Sombra was still watching her. 

Sombra cleared her throat dramatically, breaking the heavy silence. "Anyway, amiga, I have other stuff to do and more pressing information to dig into. Just figured my best friend might find this funny." She laughed. 

Widowmaker grimaced. "We are not friends." She glared at the other purple-clad woman. "Go to sleep, Sombra."

"Genius doesn't sleep, mejor amiga." She stated, stifling a poorly timed yawn. "Anyway, I uploaded some pictures to your headset... device... thing while you were distracted, so maybe you can like, make their faces into targets or whatever you do in here." She shrugged. She winked before characteristically saying "Sombra offline", disappearing with a few purple flickers. Widowmaker waited a few beats before reluctantly deciding that Sombra probably got bored and had better things to do than keep watching her. 

She unfolded the picture in her hands. Amélie lightly tried to smooth out the worn creases of the photo. Something felt different and wrong inside of her, and she was beginning to actually feel some sense of discomfort and dissatisfaction. The way she felt when a kill escaped from her scoped range. Disappointment. An inkling of rage. Confusion on how such a thing could happen. How such a thing _did_ happen. 

Amélie decided to tuck the unfolded photo under her cheap pillow on what could be called her bed (such a poorly made thing, really.) She couldn't think of anywhere else to store the photo, or even a place to throw it away where it wouldn't be seen. 

She took one last glance at the picture before lightly placing it under her pillow. 

_"Never change, love!!! ♡ Tracer (Lena! That's me!)"_

\--

Lena Oxton stretched and yawned as she exited her kitchen into the living room. It was pretty late and someone like her could only be energetic for so long until she just felt like crashing and relaxing. 

Emily was relaxing on the couch with a book, a warm cup of tea placed nearby on a low coffee table in front of the couch. She flipped through the pages, engrossed in the story. Lena smiled softly. She felt so lucky to have found Emily and so grateful for all of the years they had spent together. It was hard on their relationship to see Lena come and go frequently between missions, but Emily understood that the world needed more heroes. Overwatch was Lena's, Tracer's, passion. The adventurer felt like it was what she was born to do. Emily saw her for what she was: a true hero. 

"Hey, love." Lena said softly as she walked over to kiss her girlfriend on the head. "I'm thinkin' of goin' to bed early tonight. I'm wicked winded after today's mission."

Emily giggled, looking up at her girlfriend with glimmering eyes. Lena felt her heart melt, as it did every time Emily looked at her with those striking hazel eyes over the past few years. Lena moved her hand to cup Emily's cheek lovingly. 

"Okay, babe." Emily said. "Get some good rest for once." She joked, lightly touching her partner's hand and moving her face to kiss her palm. Lena giggled, swiftly turning around and walking to their shared bedroom. Unsurprisingly, Lena had always been a bit of a mess, but Emily never minded cleaning up and folding her laundry once in a while. Lena took off her jacket, grasping it in both hands before hanging it up neatly in their shared closet. She was careful not to just throw all of her clothes on the floor and just jump into bed tonight. After stripping down, she opened her second dresser drawer, fishing around for a clean pajama shirt, in the process accidentally balling up and unfolding all of Emily's nicely folded laundry. She winced as she pulled out a ball of fabrics just to pick a plain white shirt out of the mess. Throwing the shirt over her head while still holding the ball of laundry wasn't her finest idea. With one arm inside of a sleeve and one outside, she attempted to fold the two other shirts she has wrinkled up. They ended up looking rather ridiculous, but she knew Emily would never get cross with her over such a thing. They were good together. 

Lena placed the folded shirts back in the drawer and finished getting into her top. Just before she was about to close the drawer, she noticed something that didn't quite look like clothes.

 _Must've come out when I was rummaging through the drawer and making a right mess of things._ Lena thought to herself, picking up the strange paper-like object. She felt her stomach lurch immediately upon looking at what turned out to be a photo. 

A younger version of herself and a smartly dressed elegant woman smiled back at her. 

Lena felt her eyes well up in tears. How could she ever forget? How could this have happened? Now where she used to see a friendly, beautiful face she saw a terrifying, cruel monster. Her eyes traced the outline of long silken hair and bright full lips, pursed together in a way that they never would again. Lena's mind flashed back to the last time she saw Amé-- Widowmaker. 

_"Adieu, cherie."_

A hot tear rolled down Lena's cheek, splattering on the photo, obscuring some purple text. She quickly wiped the water off with her thumb, tracing her skin over the beautiful cursive.

She wanted to rip up the picture. Burn it. She wanted to cry, to yell, to go back in time far enough to prevent this from happening. 

Lena knew more than anyone in Overwatch what it was like to be alone, isolated. After blinking around for months after the Slipstream incident, lost in time and constantly moving, she felt that she could barely bring herself to hate her ex-friend at the same level the cold woman had for her. All she could think of was how alone Amélie must have felt, must be feeling. She didn't totally buy that the elegant, kind Amélie was entirely gone or that she was completely incapable of feeling, no matter how many times her comrades told her such was the truth. 

_Why. Why. Why._

Lena forcefully wiped the remnants of tears from her eyes. She knew that she didn't have the heart to destroy the image. It was all that was left of Amélie, the only proof that she was ever a human, a friend. Lena's eyes drifted up to her and Emily's shared bulletin board displayed in their room. Dozens of pictures littered the board, pinned one on top of another, brimming with beloved memories and smiling faces. She slowly walked over to the wall, feeling as if her legs were now made of stone. She felt even more exhausted than before. 

Her small hands found an extra thumbtack on the side of the board. Her fingers shook as she dislodged it. Lena looked around the board. Laughter and love and positivity were snapshotted in time and showcased forever. She smiled as she traced pictures of herself, Winston and Emily from past holidays. She sniffed as she admired photos of Angela, Reinhardt, Jack and so many more. 

The right side of the board nearest to her side of the bed had the smallest amount of room for the Polaroid. Lena carefully stuck the pin through the photo, holding it to the cork board, making sure that none of the actual photo or writing was obscured. She took one last look at the raven-like beauty's graceful smile before rubbing her eyes again and slipping into bed. The message on the card repeated over and over in her head, and after a few more hot tears, Lena drifted off to sleep. 

_Cheers, cherie. Until we meet again. xx Amélie_


End file.
